Pottery Lessons
by hvff11
Summary: Man in the Mud missing scene. Brennan muses about what a date is, and Booth shows her he's good at making things. Oneshot.


_"Pottery Lessons"_

_by Hvolt11_

_Disclaimer: Don't own them, sadly._

_Coupling: Booth/Brennan hints_

_Authors notes: Thanks to my betas, you know who you are. **huggle**_

_Spoilers: Man in the mud and S3 eps._

_Summary: Missing scene from Man in the Mud S3 episode. Brennan muses on what a date is, and realizes Booth is good at __making things._

* * *

"Last time we were Wonder Woman and Clark Kent. Now, I'm Brennan and you're Booth," she mused, shaping her hands over the clay. He'd been busy marveling over his new found achievement in clay-making,and thinking how Parker would think he was the coolest dad when he brought home the horse, when suddenly the comment clicked in his head.

"It was Sweets idea," he blurted out, looking alarmed at the date analogy.

"What? I didn't say...," she looked up at him, confusion etched on her features.

"If it was a real date I'd take you to dinner. Maybe some dancing," he said thoughtfully, allowing himself a moment to imagine what dating her would be like. She wouldn't let him pull out her chair, he knew that for certain. But he'd get her to melt in his arms on the dance floor, he smiled to himself.

"Really?" she interrupted his thoughts, trying to imagine them on a real date. She'd never been taken dancing before.

"Yeah," he got lost in her eyes for a moment before pushing those un-partner-like thoughts aside. "But, its not a date."

"Right," she nodded. "But you can still help me," she looked down at her muddy mis-shapened bowl.

"Oh, well," he tentatively reached across the bowl, brushing her fingers. "You just have to press more firmly so the shape takes form quicker. See?" He pulled his hands out of the glaze and wiped them on his pant leg.

She frowned. "Yeah, but mine still doesn't look like yours."

"Yours is a bowl or vase. Mine was a horse. Big difference, Bones," he grinned.

She sighed, "You said you'd help."

"You're doing fine," he assured, standing up to go wash his hands. They were the last ones in the room, Sweets and his girlfriend leaving earlier to work out their problems. Poor kid, he thought. He wasn't getting any tonight.

"If this was a date, you'd help me. Like that Poltergeist movie." She was whining, he thought amusedly. She was cute when she whined.

"Nice try Bones, but wrong movie. Close, though," he grinned.

"Booth," she warned, with an edge to her voice.

"Fine," he hushed her, moving up close behind, chest to her back so close he could feel her body rise and fall with each breath she took. He sucked in a deep breath when her clay fingers dug into his forearms and pulled his hands into the glaze.

"Show me," she whispered, looking back at him.

Speechless, he took her smaller hands in his into the gray mixture. "Well, if you're gonna do it, might as well go all the way," he mused, his formerly clean fingers dripping with clay. He watched mesmerized as she traced the lines of his palm, coating him in the wet liquid.

"All the way," she repeated in a huskier tone than he'd ever heard from her. He cleared his throat.

"Just follow me," he took her hands back in his and pressed them on the outside of hers against the scultpure. "Okay, now press firmly, trace the edges with your fingers," he coaxed.

"Oh, I see," she whispered, guided by the reassuring pressure of his hands on hers, clay dripping through their fingers. "The pressure keeps it from going soft," she murmured, watching the shape take form.

He bit his lip. No chance of that happening.

"I get it," she said happily, now shaping the vase without his guidance. He went to remove his hands, but she reached for him again, interlocking their fingers.

"I thought we were going to do this together, it'll be quicker," she squeezed his hand, bringing it back to the bowl.

"You're doing fine. Let's just take it... slow," his voice trailed off as she turned her head to meet his quiet gaze.

"Is this a date?" she whispered, the realization of how close their bodies were now hitting her. If she tilted her head she could feel his breath on her cheek. It sent a chill down her spine and a warm sensation through her lower body.

It's _everything_, he thought, mentally thanking the kid psychiatrist for setting this up. She had a smudge of clay on her nose and she never looked more beautiful to him.

"What do you think?" he chose his words carefully. The line lead to a wall that lead to a fortress in which he kept his feelings for her. He held his breath, toe over the line.

"I like bowling better," she shrugged, smiling shyly at him before returning back to her bowl. Suddenly, she frowned looking over at his horse and then back at her vase, "Wait, are you good at that too?"

He exhaled, grinning broadly. She busily shaped her vase and he went to stand up again. Toe already over the line, he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, "I'm good at everything."

* * *

**_Let me know what you think! This is intended as a oneshot...but can't you just imagine the muddy fun they could get into?_**


End file.
